


Shapeshift With Me

by stainedglass101



Category: Twelve Forever (Cartoon)
Genre: Grumpy Witch, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shapeshifting, but she likes it, handjobs, she's just embarrassed, soft dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24769822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stainedglass101/pseuds/stainedglass101
Summary: You, the gender-ambiguous reader, gently encourage the Witch to let you touch her, because you know she'll like it.
Relationships: butt witch/reader
Kudos: 21





	Shapeshift With Me

**Author's Note:**

> i made a second account to get away from my main fandom and try to fight burnout pls be gentle i am Trying My Hardest
> 
> this is a gnc/trans rights zone. thank u

“Let yourself relax, c'mon,” you tease, stroking between her legs.

She shudders, and with a long sigh, she allows herself to shapeshift; her length slips out into your hand, sticky and warm, and you stroke her so gently.

“There you are,” you murmur, feeling the warmth of her and her bumps and ridges, curling your hand around her tip just to feel her arch and hiss in your ear. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mm-mm, ah, yes,” she admits. You stroke her so gently, and she bucks into your hand, and growls. “Don’t just lie there, do something,” she threatens, but her eyes are unfocussed, and you see them flicker.

“Just relax for me honey, please?” you whisper. Her eyes narrow, but her panting gives her away. She rocks her hips into your touch, and you squeeze, and she exhales sharply. You stroke her. She purrs.

She drops her head, and her hair falls on your face. You brush it out of the way with your free hand and see her eyes are flickering, pulsating softly. You can’t help but tenderly tuck her hair behind her ear - she immediately frowns, and snarls, disgusted to show  _ weakness, _ but you have her, you  _ have _ her in the palm of your hand, and she’s losing herself in your touch.

“You take care of me… It’s time I take care of you,” you whisper, and you coil your hand and tug rhythmically. She gasps, harshly, and fails to suppress a shudder. You can feel her holding back from fucking your hand. She grips your shoulders tight with her claws.

“You can feel good, it’s okay,” you say, and she growls low in her throat. Her claws dig in. You hiss. It seems to spur her on - she jerks her hips, involuntarily. You pick up the pace, stroking her faster, and she  _ whines. _

“Please, ah, please,” she says, and then she  _ realises _ what she’s said, and literally bites her tongue.

You raise an eyebrow. “Please?”

“I don’t say please!” she snaps, and deliberately fucks your hand, one thrust, two, and shudders, falling back into a pattern of shaky, shallower jerks. She’s clearly not used to this. You quicken the pace, and relish in the groans she makes right in your ear. Her bucking hips, she’s wet with pre, and she seems to be falling into a special kind of mindlessness the more she hears the wet sounds she makes against your hand. It’s  _ endearing. _ “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” you reassure her, in her moment of weakness.

She growls. Moves faster. You oblige, squeezing her, and she makes the most beautiful strangled noise in her throat. You pull her down against you with your nails in her back, and she gasps, moans, stifles it, pants, and her eyes roll back in her head.

You need more.

You fist a hand in her hair and  _ pull, _ slowly, deliberately. She keens high and thin, her eyes white slits. Her teeth shift into sharpness and you realise you want to feel her growls and teeth in your throat. You pull her hair anyway. Her eyes flash and flicker and she  _ moans _ and jerks into you and her breathing rasps like an animal and you stroke her so fast she almost  _ collapses, _ but doesn’t. She digs her claws into your shoulder and arches over you and you can hear her spine pop as it elongates, and then she’s fucking your hand, digitigrade legs planted on the floor and eyes pure white and maw sharp and fucking you and almost scraping you across the floor from the force of it.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” you ask her. She snarls, fucking your hand with her now-ridged shaft. “Are you close? So close?”

She’s making an endless low snarling symphony, and to be frank, you’re a little addicted.

“Come for me, baby, come on,” you whisper in her ear. “Be good for me and  _ cum.” _

Something in her animal brain snaps, and she howls, burying herself in your tight fist, and she sinks her fangs into your exposed throat as she cums. You gasp, and groan, as you feel something wet on your stomach.

She rides out her orgasm, rolling her hips insistently, then gently, and she finally goes lax on top of you, slumping enough to knock the breath from your lungs. She holds your shoulders with her claws and buries her face in your neck. You stroke her hair. It’s silky, soft, silvery. She nuzzles you, just a little, and tongues the tooth marks she made in your skin.

“Did that feel nice?” you ask, softly, a few minutes later.

“...Yes,” she admits. Her voice is quiet with a raspy edge. You scratch lightly behind her horns, a spot you know she likes. The dragon purrs in your arms. “We should do this again some time.”

You agree.


End file.
